Short stories to curl up with.

Our Little Girl

“You’ll never guess who I saw today. Don’t bother guessing. I know you aren’t so good at that anymore. So. I’ll tell you. I saw our daughter.”

Henry waited for a response, for some sort of reaction.

She held her silence close.

As usual.

“She looks a little like me. She has…Ha. My monkey ears. But she has your beautiful smile. And. And she smiles so much. She makes friends easily just like you. She colors inside the lines. Like me. She…”

He bowed his head. “Why didn’t we keep her? If you had seen her today, you’d be asking the same thing. Why? Why did we give her up? Why didn’t I keep her? But I told them just take her. I don’t want to see her.”

He rubbed his nose. “Even then she had your smile. I couldn’t look at it. I couldn’t look at her. So, I gave her up.”

He paused.

Waiting.

Waiting for one word.

A glance.

A touch.

Waiting for the reassurance he craved.

He waited in vain.

His wife remained silent.

As always.

“I guess…” He sighed. “I just wanted to let you know that our little girl is happy. Her parents take good care of her. You can tell just by looking at her. How she holds her head. The confidence that seems to pour out of her pores. Her zest for life.” He swallowed hard. “She’s so full of life.”

Rain fell in splits and splatters, plastering Henry’s hair to his head and making his ears stand out more than usual.

Henry reached forward to touch his wife’s gravestone. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”